


Thunk

by badgerempress



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Gen, Humor, M/M, Pre-Slash, this is very silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-28
Updated: 2012-11-28
Packaged: 2017-11-19 18:03:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/576120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badgerempress/pseuds/badgerempress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's had enough and decides to give Dean a taste of his own medicine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thunk

It’s more reliable than Old Faithful.

 _Thunk_ , _thunk_ , _thunk_ , and then indistinct, masculine moaning.

Sam stares hatefully at the adjoining motel wall. On a particularly enthusiastic _thunk_ , the wall rattles. The red striped paper is already peeling at the corners and crumbs of drywall from the exposed portions fall on one of the double beds. Sam pops his knuckles and then poises his fingers over his laptop’s keyboard, ready to continue his research. Then there is a nearly audible groan that sounds suspiciously like a certain trench coat wearing angel is saying a certain oversexed idiot Winchester’s name. His hands freeze, hovering over the keys and Sam purses his lips so hard it hurts.  

Gabriel is sitting lazily on the foot of one of the beds watching TV and as usual being no damn help. He giggles like a 10 year old every time the couple next door makes any kind of suggestive sound. As though hearing Dean give it to his little brother like a dog in heat isn’t all kinds of horrifying and traumatic.

Right now though, it’s just fucking annoying. Sam is pretty sure Dean is doing this on purpose for whatever reason: flaunting his hyperactive sex life, trying to make Sam jealous, or to get a rise out of Gabriel. Only the first one has been accomplished, but Sam definitely does not want to bone Castiel and the only thing rising out of Gabriel is a series of juvenile titters.

Every now and again Gabriel makes a lewd comment which Sam pointedly ignores, like he is _trying_ desperately to ignore his brother’s…escapades next door. It’s actually ridiculous how long it’s been going on. Despite what Dean would have others believe, Sam has had a respectable amount of sex in his life and he knows there is no way it lasts this long without a pill. Of course, there might be some kind of magical angel assist that prolongs the experience, but Sam doesn’t particularly want to find out the details.

Sam doesn’t even know why Gabriel is hanging around right now. Maybe to be an extra annoyance in his already irritating evening. There had to be assholes that needed to ballroom dance with aliens or be killed over a hundreds times somewhere, but he’s just been hovering around lately. It makes Sam feel less like a third wheel in the Epic Blasphemous Hunter-Angel Love Affair, but that doesn’t mean the archangel doesn’t piss him off most of the time. Sam recognizes that he has anger issues, but he feels pretty damn justified in his ire at the moment.

He makes up his mind as an impulsive and stupid idea comes to him and Sam stands violently up from the motel table. Gabriel looks over at him with vague curiosity.

“I’ve fucking had it, two can play at this game,” Sam declares like he’s about to storm the Bastille. He marches over to the bed Gabriel isn’t sitting on and glares daggers at the archangel. “Turn that off.”

Gabriel arches an eyebrow, but does as he’s told with wry amusement.

“What’s got your goat, Sammy?”

“Don’t call me that and you know damn well.”

As if on cue, there is an unmistakable, "Dean!" shouted from the other side of the thin wall with accompanying _thunks_.

Gabriel chuckles, “Angel stamina is something, isn’t it? Deano’s putting that to good use.”

“Shut up and help me.”

Gabriel snorts and looks away from the wall back to Sam and he freezes. Sam is leaning down with his hands flat on the end of the other bed and his ass sticking in the air. The hunter shoots him a poisonous expression.

“Are you just going to sit there or are you going to help me?”

“Help you with what?” Gabriel asks cautiously, most of his previous mirth carefully locked away.

Sam rolls his eyes and shifts in place, it’s an uncomfortable position.

“Get over here, Gabriel,” he orders.

“Oh, Sam,” Gabriel trills as he hops off the bed, “you know I can’t say no when you use that tone.”

Gabriel stands awkwardly next to Sam and he stares at the archangel imploringly. He stays in place, not entirely with the program. It should be obvious what’s going on, but Gabriel is occasionally surprisingly thick for someone who has been alive for millions of years.

“I’ll just do it myself.” Sam growls and Gabriel makes a strangled sound like he’s choking on one of his lollipops again.

“Sam, shouldn’t we…” Gabriel begins, but he is interrupted by Sam lifting and suddenly slamming his hands down on the bed. It quivers and Sam is unsatisfied. He grips the corner harshly and pushes it against the wall. It makes a _thunk_. Sam grins devilishly and does it again.

It takes a second for all the blood to redistribute in Gabriel’s body before he realizes that Sam is synching up his…thrusts with the thumping from next door. A huge smirk overtakes his face, he gets it now. Gabriel moves to the side of the bed and sits one knee atop the comforter. Using his other leg as leverage, he pushes down on the mattress making the tired, ancient springs squeak loudly. He gets jostled a bit as Sam continues to push the bed against the wall, but keeps half-bouncing on the bed.

Sam smiles at him maniacally, his annoyance bleeding away into mischievous mirth. Gabriel decides to up the game and lets out a shameless and practiced moan. Sam looks a little surprised as a string of pornographic grade sounds come out of Gabriel.

“Oh, Sam! Right _there_!” Gabriel shouts and at first he thinks he’s gotten carried away, but notices Sam trying and nearly losing at biting back a laugh. It eggs him on. “ _Jesus_! Now I know why they call you a moose!” Gabriel gasps. “Do _that_ again! Don’t stop! Take me back to Heaven, Sammy!”

Sam is now crying from holding in laughter. The bed is pounding arrhythmically against the wall as Sam struggles to regain control of himself. Gabriel is also having a hard time focusing on his task.

It isn’t until Sam regains enough composure to shout, “Gabe, you sex machine, I could go _all night_ with you, baby!” that the pair notices a change in the sounds from next door. The bed on the other side is thunking a lot less vigorously and neither Castiel nor Dean’s voices can be heard anymore, almost as though they were struggling to listen in the throws of passion. It’s a little creepy to think about, but Sam is distracted by Gabriel’s next outburst.

“Sam, we can’t do _that_! Be gentle, I’ve never…” He lets out a pathetic whimper and Sam is biting his hand trying not to explode with laughter. “Yes, yes, yes, YES!” Gabriel screams with increasing tempo. Sam speeds up jamming the bed into the wall in tandem. Snowfalls of drywall start littering the beds and carpet. Sam is pretty sure they’re going to get one hell of a noise complaint, but he can’t seem to care too much.

In unison, Gabriel slams down hard on the mattress and Sam gives one last great push to the bed and they both let out a gasping cry at the same time. Gabriel collapses on top of the comforter. The sounds on the other side of the wall have greatly reduced to faint creaking.

Slowly, a huge smile creeps onto Sam’s face and he suddenly ruptures in a fit of violent laughter. He falls back on his ass on the floor and his mirth is uncontrollable. Gabriel howls in amusement and shakes on top of the bed. It goes on for a long time and Sam weakly wipes away the tears on his face, having a hard time breathing. Gabriel is in no better condition, sprawled limply on his stomach and coughing a little.

Sam catches Gabriel’s eyes and they exchange conspiratorial grins. It’d been a while since either of them had so much fun.

Five or so minutes later, Dean bursts into the motel room with the look of murder on his face. His clothes were obviously put on in haste, he’s barefoot, and his hair is wild. Sam stares up at him in surprise from his laptop at the table and Gabriel barely glances away from the TV as he sits on the bed.

“What the _holy_ _fuck_ is going on here?”

“Oh, Dean.” Sam feigns surprise. “How you doing? We were wondering when you were going to come…back.” Sam bites down one hell of a suspicious grin and he hears Gabriel snort violently behind him. Dean glares at them both.


End file.
